A Book of Verses 



BY 

Alice Hathaway Cunningham 




Cochrane Publishing Company 

Tribune Building 

New York 

1910 



Copyright, 1910, by 
Cochrane Publishing Co. 



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CONTENTS 



Destiny 
Immortal 
Affluence 
Forgetting 
Love's Child 

In a Garden 

The White Rose 

Mockery 

Trysting Song 

The Twain 

Ignorance 

Life's Gamble 

Hope 

Two Fools 

The Guest . 

The Awakening 
The Masker - 



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"A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, 
A loaf of bread, a jug of wine — and Thou 
Beside me singing in the Wilderness. 
Ah, Wilderness were Paradise enow." 

— Omar Khayyam. 



cA BOOK OF VERSES 



AFFLUENCE. 

Love perched up on the window-seat 

Poverty stood by the door, 
While Jane and I shared the only chair 

And smiled at the bare walls and floor. 

"I'll be very sorry to go," said Love, 

"But I realize my position, 
Where Poverty lives I may not stay, 

According to tradition. 

"And as you have naught of silver and gold, 
And naught of jewels rare, 
Dame Poverty's come to take my place, — 
And will your dwelling share." 

"Oh, Love," I cried, in exasperation, 

"You surely must be blind! 
Why, here is wealth more great than kings' 

With happiness combined. 

"And tho' we have not gold and pearls 
We know what perfect bliss is. 

So stay and sup with us, dear friend, 
On bread and cheese — and kisses !" 



A Book of Verses 



DESTINY. 

Not a crust today, but a feast tomorrow, 
A little of joy, — and much of sorrow. 
A day of peace with years of strife; 
Blindfolded we go, — and this is Life! 

Joy to the beggar and grief to the king, 

A laughing sob as we try to sing, 

Then cast away care as you would a glove, — 

The world is yours, — and this is Love! 

Surcease of pain so some of them tell 

And a just reward for your good deeds, well — 

At least 'tis the ending of all breath. 

We'll know something at last, — and this is Death! 

IMMORTAL. 

Fair Love is dead you say? I laugh. 
You cannot tell the wheat from chaff; 
Within my heart the tears are dried, 
Had Love been Love he had not died! 

Sweet Love is dead? I, knowing, smile. 
He is but sleeping for a while, 
And those who say 'tis death but lie, 
Love that is Love can never die! 

Fond Love is dead ? Oh ! fool, you speak 
Like Love were mortal, frail and weak. 
He is no slave, convention tied. 
Had this been Love — it had not died! 



A Book of Verses 



LOVE'S CHILD. 

He clung to me, — a tiny thing, 

And warm against my breast 
I kept him close, he was so weak, 

I loved him far the best. 
He grew apace, his baby feet 

I guided with such care 
Along the road, my hands were torn 

By thorns that sprang 
To wound him, unaware. 

The World called him, so sweetly soft 

It called in accents low, 
He left my side, — a sturdy youth, 

I grieved to see him go. 
My hours were bare ; my day of Joy 

Had not survided its dawn. 
And then he passed, — I cried his name 

In agony, 

He glanced at me in scorn ! 

IGNORANCE. 

I never knew until you came 
How golden was the dawn. 

How green the grass, — 

How winds that pass 
In flowers' hearts were born! 

I never knew until you went 
How bleak the day could be. 

How roses sear, — 

How skies are drear. 
How desolate the sea! 



A Book of Verses 



IN A GARDEN. 

(Morning.) 
Lotus buds blush by the fountain's brink 

As Phoebus comes over the hills. 
A lark stops his raptures a moment to drink,- 

Then higher and sweeter he trills. 

(Noon.) 
Pale butterflies languidly float o'er the wall 

Dreaming of roses and June. 
Fat bumblebees answer the white lilies' call,- 

Humming a lazy tune. 

(Night.) 
Prim hollyhocks stand in a haughty row 

Watching the fireflies play. 
Sweet zephyrs idly a lullaby blow, — 

The poppies drowsily sway. 

TRYSTING SONG. 

Beloved, to-night is mine ! 

Full soon the rushing day 

Will fleck with gold the mountain pine, — 

And I must speed away. 

Beloved, to-night is mine! 

The crimson of your mouth 

Runs through my veins like living wine 

Made in the dreaming South. 

Beloved, to-night is mine ! 
And all the world can die. 
My cheek pressed close to thine, — 
Life's naught but thou and I ! 



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A Book of Verses 



THE WHITE ROSE. 
You sent me a rose of white, 

A pure symbol of the dead; 
You sent me a rose of white 

That yesterday was of red. 
Its petals fall one by one 

Like pearls from a golden chain, 
They tell me the story I know full well— 

I am never to see you again! 
For the love that was mine in the Autumn 

Could not be mine in the Spring. 
You said that a woman was mad 

Who dreamed of such a thing. 
So I bade you farewell with laughter. 

And broke my heart with a song, 
While the cry of my soul was stifled — 

For the pride of a woman is strong. 
But this do I know, — when another 

Is lying caressed in your arms, — ■ 
Whether you are mid the city's strife 

Or under the tropic's palms, — 
The breath of my warm sweet kisses 

Will storm your heart's calm ease, 
And your thoughts will fly to me again 

From over the Seven Seas. 
For the flame of that old desire 

That held us fast in its grip 
Will sear the whiteness of her throat 

And burn the sweet from her lip. 
For the love that died with the roses 

Was quick in the Fall when we met; 
Its buried deep — 'neath the rosemary, — 

It will not let you forget! 



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A Book of Verses 



MOCKERY. 

We said good-by; our hands scarce met 

In token of farewell. 
I lightly thought I could forget, — 

And tolled Love's passing bell. 



It was the Spring; the woods and hills 
Forth in new raiment came. 

The running brooks and dancing rills 
Did whisper but your name. 

Then Summer comes ; And over all 
The earth sheds sweetness rare. 

The scents from myriad flowers recall 
The perfume of your hair. 

'Tis Autumn ; And the birds now wing 
Their way swift to the south. 

A thousand tints of scarlet sing 
The glory of your mouth. 

Grim Winter; Through my frosted pane 

The wood in silver coat. 
Each falling snowflake brings again 

The whiteness of your throat. 



We said good-by ; Each went their way 

As tho' we ne'er had met. 
Love cold and stark between us lay,- 

I thought I could forget ! 



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A Book of Verses 



THE TWAIN. 

Down by the road of Time I sat, 
And watched the crowding throng; 

And some were merry and some were sad, 
For the way was long, so long. 

And one there was who bent in grief, 

Her tears fell with each breath. 
"But why do you cry as with fear?" I asked; 

*T am Life, and I weep at Death !" 

And there was another, with cap and bells. 
Who laughed 'midst all the strife. 

"Oh, why do you smile, when others are sad?" 
"I am Death, and I laugh at Life!" 

TWO FOOLS. 

"Oh thou art a fool," 

Said my head to my heart, 
"And unless you do better 

We surely must part. 
"For you falter and jump 

At the smile of a miss, i 

And you race madly on 

At the thought of a kiss !" 

But my heart answered 
Never a word to my head. 

For then Doris came by — 

The maid I would wed. 

And my head whirled round 
At her blushes so red. — 

"Shall we part then, Oh fool?" 
Said my heart to my head. 



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A Book of Verses 



THE GUEST. 

Love lingered awhile at my neighbor's gate 

Then laughed and rode away, 
But I envied her tears as she watched him go— 

For she had had her day. 
Love paused beside another's door 

And called a merry greeting; 
I turned away my face in pain, — 

I could not bear the meeting. 
For I swept and garnished my poor abode 

For Love one summer day. 
With flowers of Youth and Hope and Joy 

I gayly strewed the way ; 
I stood to greet him at the door, 

My heart sang — "Love is nigh!" 
He came down the road with princely stride 

And unseeing passed me by! 

HOPE. 

She is the travel-mate of Youth 
Who hides the nakedness of Truth. 
She sheds a sweetness over Age, 
And holds a lamp to light the Sage, 

She tinsels Poverty's wretched plight. 
And makes the stars to pierce the night. 
Lifts broken flowers after the rain; 
Tells parted friends they shall meet again. 

With Love she journeys a-down the way 
And blinds his eyes with visions gay. 
She threads golden music through Life's prose, 
And veils grim Oblivion with rose. 



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A Book of Verses 



THE AWAKENING. 

So still we sat in that quiet room, 

My shattered Love and I, 
I had bound his wounds with gentle care 

And hushed his frightened cry. 

"Now he will sleep," I whispered low, 
"He will have some rest at last." 

What sent you here that night of all nights 
With a smile from out the Past? 

Were not the scars quite deep enough 

That you must come to see? 
Awakening Love from his dreamless sleep — 

With a smile not meant for me! 

FORGETTING. 

I have forgotten all, yes, everything 

That ever had to do with you. 
I have forgotten that your clasp was warm, 

Your mocking eyes deep blue. 
I have forgotten. Why should I recall 

The day you crushed me to your heart, — 
Those things are dead, were buried deep 

The time we two did part. 
I have forgotten. As the moon arising 

Makes of old Earth a silver garden spot — 
What care I when lovers pass me .smiling? 

They dream, poor fools. For me — I have forgot. 



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A Book of Verses 



THE MASKER. 

"We must part," I said to my Sorrow, 

"So good-bye forever and aye. 
I have had enough of your tears and woes, 

I will part from you to-day. 

"For Life, tho' short, should be merry, — 

I'll take Pleasure in your place," 
But as Sorrow turned to go her way 

I saw a grim smile on her face. 

"Come hither, come hither. Oh Pleasure," I called, 

"Come, let us two dance a measure. 
For old Sorrow is gone, and in her stead 

I will have you for my treasure !" 

And as we danced in the wildest glee. 
With never a thought for the morrow, 

In the guise of Pleasure, — with smiling mask, 
I found that my partner was Sorrow ! 

LIFE'S GAMBLE. 

My soul turned from its God for you 
And wandered far 'midst thorn and rue, 
And then came one who snatched the prize 

I strove so hard to gain. 
Now memory sends wild thoughts to bruise 
My heart; yet had I aught to lose 
For but a glance from your dark eyes — 

I'd stake my all again ! 



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One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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